A Deeper Silence
by Danlotte Shipper
Summary: Charlotte is having a nightmare, and Daniel struggles with deciding whether or not to wake her up. OneShot, Daniel POV, Dan/Charlotte-ish.


_A Deeper Silence_

I can't sleep. Although, this seems completely reasonable. I could always sleep before we landed on this island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Before complete strangers walked around with guns in their pockets as if it were nothing. Before complete strangers took guns _out_ of their pockets and pointed them at each other, as if it were an everyday thing. Which it probably is, here. Therefore, I guess it's normal for me to not feel comfortable falling asleep.

At least they aren't near me, now. Jack and everyone else are further down the beach. They haven't quite let Charlotte or me out of their sight since the whole Tempest ordeal, but at least they're not pointing guns at our heads, either, for now. For now, I'm sitting here watching the fire burn between Charlotte and I, trying to will my eyelids to droop.

They don't.

It's because I can't stop thinking. My thoughts don't ever stop going. If I could get them to slow down, at least, then maybe I could sleep. It's mostly the guilt, really. The fact that we tricked the people here into thinking that we're really here to help them get off this island, when really, that's not quite the case.

Charlotte's asleep. Why can she sleep and I can't? She has plenty to think about too, I bet. Like fighting Juliet today. Or knocking Kate unconscious. That could be a lot weighing on her conscious. But it's weighing on mine, too, since she did that all for me. It seems like things don't affect her sometimes, like she's not really here. It's like something happened before, and now she's constantly hidden behind her own shield. I don't know why, but that's what I think Charlotte's story is. I was thinking about that an hour ago when I was trying to fall asleep. Now I've given up, and I'm just thinking.

Charlotte jerks in her sleep and her forehead creases. She begins to mumble something incoherently, so low that I can barely hear. There aren't any words, just syllables.

Charlotte talked in her sleep once before. It was everyone's first day on the freighter. Well, mine, hers, Mile's, and Frank's. Charlotte slept on the bunk above mine. I woke up and she was mumbling something to her sister and her parents about how she wouldn't be gone long, that she'd try to make it home for Christmas. Before I could really understand what she was talking about, Miles shouted for her to shut up so they could get some sleep. She came to and called him every curse I had never heard. No more from Miles. I don't think she fell back asleep the rest of the night, though. She looked exhausted the next morning.

I lean closer, because Charlotte's starting to mumble again. Finally, I make out one word. _Dan._ Dan? As in me, Daniel Faraday? No, of course not. Why would she be dreaming about me?

"Daniel," she says, clearly this time. I swallow. Maybe she's awake, and really talking to me.

"Yeah?" I whisper. She doesn't respond. I shake my head. Of course she's sleeping.

"Dan, no." She says, her voice quivering, distraught with anguish. She rolls on her side and flinches. Her features are contorted in pain, illuminated by the crackling fire. I debate what to do. Should I do anything?

"Daniel!" Charlotte says, a little louder. Her voice trembles and her hands lying in the sand twitch, then clench themselves into fists.

Should I wake her up? Maybe just let the nightmare play out. I want to know what she is dreaming about desperately. Maybe she'll tell me when she wakes up. But I doubt it. I decide it's best just to let her sleep. That's before the tears begin to squeeze out of the corners of her eyes. They trail down her freckled face and fall onto her makeshift pillow, a balled up jacket. Mine, actually. More and more silent tears drip down Charlotte's face. She says my name again, and I can't help it. I have to wake her up.

I slide over beside her tentatively. Maybe this isn't a good idea. One look at her face and it doesn't matter. I take one of her hands in both of mine, and immediately, she relaxes the tiniest bit.

"Charlotte." I whisper. She's tensed again, the tears streaming down her face. I can't think of much that could make Charlotte cry. I can't think of anything, really. I squeeze her hand and whisper her name again. She still doesn't wake up. This could end very badly. She could wake up and not even remember the dream, then yell at me for waking her up. Still, I think I'd rather have her yell at me than sit next to her and watch her cry. Feeling rather brave, I wipe away a few of the tears from her cheek with my thumb.

Suddenly, she gasps and her eyes snap open, my hand still on her face. She jolts and sits straight up, so that we're face to face. She breathes out in uneven, heavy breaths to match mine. Charlotte's wide eyes dart back and forth, all around, until they finally land on me. Her gaze sweeps my expression and finally she exhales, as if she had been holding her breath. She puts her hand over her eyes, a realization.

I swallow. Now what? "Hey, uh, are you okay?" I couldn't have come up with anything better than that.

Charlotte takes her palm off her face, her expression crumbling. She looks down at our hands, hers still in mine. I don't know what to do about that. She solves my indecision by flipping her hand over and intertwining her fingers with mine.

"Yeah. I-- I guess." She finally replies, weakly. She squeezes my hand, as if there's some comfort in me being there.

"You were having a nightmare. I think. You were… Shaking, and…" I trail off.

"I know." Charlotte shakes her head and wipes the final traces of tears from her face. "Thanks." She manages. Still, she doesn't manage to suppress the one sob that finally escapes her lips.

I look around, searching for something unknown. Something to unscramble my thoughts. Charlotte, with tears in her eyes? Maybe I'm dreaming. Rather, having a nightmare.

"Hey," I whisper subconsciously, the only word I can think of to comfort her.

She looks away, averting her eyes so that her gaze falls anywhere but on me. Her chin quivers and she curls her lips.

"Are you gonna be alright?" I finally ask.

"Yeah, yeah." Charlotte shrugs off my concern, and I nod, but unconvinced.

Suddenly, she glances back up at me before pulling me into an embrace. Her head rests on my shoulder, her cool, wet cheek against mine. I freeze for a second, stiff in her embrace, totally unsure of what to do. After a moment, I awkwardly wrap my arms around her, softly, so that she can pull away quickly if she wants. But she doesn't. Instead, she stays in my arms for what seems like ages, yet passes in seconds, and is over.

"Thank you." She whispers into my ear and leans back.

"That… That's what I'm here for." I laugh nervously, stupidly, but what else is there to do?

"And I'm glad you're here." Charlotte smiles, wiping stray red curls from her face and lying back down. I slide back over to my sleeping bag without realizing that we're still holding hands. Not that I mind in the least. But does Charlotte? As if she can read my mind, she gives my hand another gentle squeeze. We're just close enough to keep each other's grasp.

I think of asking her what her dream was, but decide against it. It's probably nothing I want to hear. At least in the real world, I got to be the hero, in a sense. I guess. That's new. I wonder it she'll even remember in the morning that I woke her, or if she'll just forget, or see it as part of her dream.

Slowly, I feel the tiredness taking over me, but I wait out until Charlotte's grip loosens and the fire shines on her closed eyelids before I allow myself to get a few hours of desperately needed rest.

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A/N: Hey! First fanfiction piece here. I'd love to get some reviews so I know what ya thought and if I got the characters, well, in-character. Thanks, guys! -Lynn


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